


A Lover's Approval

by Leidolette



Category: The Mummy (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leidolette/pseuds/Leidolette
Summary: Imhotep gets what he wants, and Evelyn doesn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dancingsalome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/gifts).



Later she would think that it wasn't so strange, actually. Despite being the younger sibling -- and a girl, besides -- Evelyn had been protecting Jonathan all her life. After the death of their parents, it was as if Jonathan's development had been paused in stasis indefinitely, and Evelyn was the only one left to consider the consequences. 

And then, for several unending, horrible hours, Evelyn thought that she was the only one left at all. The spike of sand sent up by the crashed plane was like a waving white flag giving up the last member of her family to the afterlife. The feel of her heart breaking in her chest seemed to drain all her will to fight. With no tears, but with lungs that breathed out despair with each breath, Evelyn followed Imhotep down under the sand.

Then there had been a gunshot, and suddenly Evelyn was alive again. Jonathan was _alive_ , Rick was _alive_. But then Imhotep summoned his unspeakable servants from the grave, and, for nearly an hour, Evelyn knew no more than that.

It was the not knowing that tortured Evelyn. She had always sought out knowledge with a single-mindedness that had bothered many potential friends and suitors, and now she was denied even a hint of the fate of her brother. She could only sit and stew with her imaginings of what was happening elsewhere in the underground tomb, while Beni stood with his worried little rat face and guarded her. When, after an eternity, Imhotep motioned for Evelyn to follow him down a winding corridor, she went willingly, steeling herself for what she would find, but wanting to know nonetheless. 

When Evelyn reached the room at the end of the stone tunnel, she could see something in front of her, a cage of some sort. She squinted through the dim light to make out the dark shapes inside.

"Your brother lives," Imhotep said. 

Evelyn's breath hitched. She ran over the ancient Egyptian words in her head over and over, making sure she hadn't mistranslated the meaning. _Jonathan was alive! Her stupid, smarmy, wonderful brother was still alive!_

Now that her low-light vision was coming back, Evelyn could see it for herself. Jonathan was there, in the center of the cage, unmoving on the ground. 

"Jonathan!" Evelyn yelled, but her brother had no reaction to her cry. She turned to Imhotep in desperation. Had he lied to her? He was an amoral, undead killer -- of course she didn't put a little lying past him. And where was Rick? Was he dead? Evelyn dared not ask Imhotep; if Rick was alive and planning something, she did not want to remind the creature of Rick's existence.

"He lives," Imhotep said again. "But perhaps not for long." 

Imhotep slowly raised a hand to point in Jonathan's direction. Evelyn whirled back around in time to see a column of seething sand rise into the air just outside of Jonathan's cage. It hovered in the air at about the height of a man, held aloft by Imhotep's will -- a poisonous snake just waiting to strike.

"Would you like me to spare his life?" 

"Yes." Evelyn swallowed.

Imhotep leaned backwards on the balls of his feet. "Then come with me; be my vessel. Be part of a love that has spanned millennia."

This little exchange was the most that Evelyn had ever heard from Imhotep, and she fervently wished that he would go back to being mostly silent -- his voice made her skin crawl. In other circumstances, she would have a quick retort already on her lips, but her gaze kept sliding to the still form of her brother and the words would not come to her. Imhotep had gone back on his deal before, but could did she dare risk refusing him? He seemed to be holding all the cards.

Evelyn couldn't bring herself to speak, so she only nodded.

This seemed to please Imhotep. He stepped closer and caressed her hair, then, soft as sliding silk, ran his hand down her neck and over her collarbone. Evelyn sharply inhaled, nearly a pain reaction, but didn't move.

He leaned in to kiss her.

Evelyn closed her eyes while it was happening, and weakly kissed back. This was no different than posting bail for her brother, or fibbing to their parents, or discreetly passing along a couple pounds of pocket money. 

This was just the same, she tried to convince herself. She repeated this thought in her mind until it dulled her thoughts. The words buzzed around her brain, and made it easier for Evelyn to lift her hand and run it along Imhotep's jaw in a return caress. 

She had so subdued her emotions that the only thing she could feel was gratitude; she was grateful that, this time, there were no beetles. That she was not touching decaying flesh. Imhotep's face was smooth and warm as she lightly cupped it in her hand. She could feel the tiniest prickle of stubble on her fingers. Apparently, even immortals still needed to shave. 

Now that Imhotep had Evelyn in his arms, any concern or jealousy that he might have had seemed to have faded away -- safely kept away from Evelyn, Jonathan or Rick was not worth a moment more of Imhotep's attention. 

Imhotep seemed that he was in no particular rush. His movements were unhurried -- languorous, even. Smiling, he led Evelyn into another chamber. The torchlight and mirrored sun flickered over everything in the ancient room. After several millennia, the room was in service again, and it seemed to Evelyn as if everything around her had lain dormant waiting with infinite patience for just this moment. Hieroglyphs covered the walls and water (or, at least it _seemed_ like water...) rippled in a shallow pool -- then, with horror, Evelyn saw the grey and desiccated body lying on a raised platform in the center of the room. That must be Anck-Su-Namun, she thought before looking away, her eyes unwilling to stare at the gruesome sight for long.

Imhotep, however, seemed unbothered by the long-dead body of his lover. He brought Evelyn further into the room. Along the way he began to shed his clothing. First his robe floated to the ground, then the outer length of the cloth that had been wrapped around his hips. It was terribly sudden and forward; Evelyn wanted to slap him for his presumption, but that instinct was the relic of a different life. Now she existed in a world of ancient curses and immortality, and was tossed about by the whims of supernatural forces that she could only pretend to control.

It was strange when he took off the last of his clothes. Evelyn had half-expected something monstrous underneath, something that marked him as the undead creature that he was. But, it wasn't so. Imhotep just looked like a man, and he wore a man's body. 

He was even rather attractive, Evelyn thought in a strange detached way that was likely a sign of just how surreal her situation was. His chest was wide, and gleaming with oil. Strong thighs, and, she noted almost clinically, an erect phallus. She looked back up at his face, his gaze was trained on her, and the intensity of it made her want to turn away. But she didn't, and she stared at Imhotep's face in blatant challenge. He might hold her brother's life in his hands, but she wouldn't pretend to be his long-dead lover more than she had to.

Imhotep then turned his physical attentions to Evelyn. Her own clothes fell to the ground under Imhotep's hands. It was the work of a moment; Evelyn had been dressed in only a nightgown, light robe, and bloomers. Now, all three articles of clothing were on the floor next to her, and she stood naked before the creature who would kill the last of her family, given the chance.

She should be embarrassed. Humiliated. And in a distant way, she probably was. Later, if there was a later, Evelyn would probably feel every drop of the degradation she had been subjected to. But right now, that all faded beneath the hatred she felt for the man in front of her. She was still so overcome by the strength of her loathing that she was caught off-guard when Imhotep stepped forward, and kissed her. 

Everything, as it happened, seemed hyper-realistic. Imhotep's lips were soft against hers, softer than she would have thought, had she ever taken the time to wonder. If this were another situation, with another man...

_(Rick)_

But it wasn't. And in the next moment, Evelyn was reminded of the horror of her situation as one of Imhotep's withered priests entered her peripheral vision, a ceramic decanter in his grey hands. The thing shuffled towards Imhotep with its burden, occasionally making small, mewling animal sounds that were incongruous with the horror of its existence. The dead priest bowed his head before Imhotep, and raised the decanter for Imhotep to pluck from his hands. Finally, Imhotep paused his kisses and caresses long enough to take the bottle.

When Imhotep pulled the stopper, the strange scent of long dormant spices filled her nose. Apparently, the oil that the priest had brought was even more decadent than Evelyn thought. And why not, she supposed, Imhotep had already availed himself of a pharaoh's mistress -- why shouldn't he have other royal luxuries? Evelyn had never been an expert in the arts of cooking, perfumery, or potpourri, so she was ignorant of what the particular combinations of spices and scents that emanated though the chamber might be. All she was sure of was that they were certainly expensive and rare. 

Evelyn had to stifle a gasp when Imhotep spread the first cold drops along her arm. The oil soon warmed as Imhotep continued, however, and it left a light sheen on her skin. She determinedly stared at the wall as Imhotep rubbed the liquid languorously over the rest of her body. Finally, he was done, and Evelyn stood there, glistening and sweet-smelling, with her dark hair cascading down her back. Step-by-step, she was being turned into Anck-Su-Namun.

The sight of her seemed to inspire him, for he embraced her again and kissed her once more, deeply. His chest was like a wall that crowded in on her, and Evelyn couldn't help but shuffle backwards as he inexorably inched forward. The cold touch of stone hit the back of her legs, and Evelyn realized where Imhotep had been guiding her: the dais. He pressed her down on the slab as he kissed her neck, its cool touch was a stark contrast to the warm man wrapped around her front. The feeling of being trapped between two unyielding objects rose within her, and she had to fight against the emotion to prevent it from blossoming into panic. _Oh my god, she was next to the corpse!_ And still Imhotep continued, seemingly needing little active participation from her. His kisses deepened, and his tongue pushed back into her mouth, just like he had done in her bedroom back in Cairo. But this time, he went further. 

His kisses grew more and more passionate. Imhotep pressed his lips against her neck, her collarbone. When he reached her breasts, Evelyn's breath came faster, but she steadfastly clamped down on revealing any reaction beyond that as his lips closed around her nipples.

Evelyn began to feel oddly detached from the situation. The sensation of Imhotep's warm mouth receded farther and farther into the distance. Instead, she thought -- something that she had always been good at. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Was she that similar to his Anck-Su-Namun? Did he even she her own features as he bent his head down to kiss her again and again, or just the face of a long-dead royal mistress?

And then, because he had been so cruelly gentle, Evelyn was taken by surprise when she felt a thick metal ring snap around her raised wrists. She instinctively pulled against them, and heard them clink against the stone slab. The chain must be attached to the dais itself. Unbreakable. 

A spike of adrenaline shot though the overwhelmed daze that Evelyn had succumbed to. She pulled against the restraints, harder this time, until Imhotep put a hand up and pressed her arms down against the dais until she was still. His action only increased the rising dread inside her -- she was bound with her hands useless above her head, completely naked in front of an inhuman monster.

And a monster he surely was, because Imhotep used Evelyn's moment of distraction to push himself inside her.

Her breathing stopped, but her heart began to beat horribly fast. It was a strange feeling -- exceedingly uncomfortable. But not painful, or at least not anymore painful than a slight stretching burn. Evelyn supposed that she should be thankful for the aromatic oils, for they had surely eased the way. Evelyn found it hard to be thankful for anything at this moment.

Imhotep let out a long lungful of air as he pushed in even further. Evelyn tilted her hips to shift the angle to something less unpleasant for her, then immediately hated herself. He probably thought that she was enjoying this, that her small movement signaled her active participation in this violation. Evelyn vowed to stay still as the dead during the rest of the encounter. It became harder and harder to keep this promise to herself as Imhotep's thrusts started in earnest. Little huffs of breath were forced out of her each time he slammed into her, leaving her mind spinning.

Finally: "Anck-Su-Namun," Imhotep rumbled into her neck as he came. His voice was deep and so full of love that Evelyn could weep.

After, Imhotep lay over Evelyn, still inside her and panting against her neck as he came down from his climax. Evelyn lied there with her eyes closed, her own breath still coming fast. She wondered, was this enough to save Jonathan? Imhotep began to lift his weight off Evelyn, and she reflexively opened her eyes at the movement. He was no longer looking at Evelyn, but off to the side. She followed his gaze.

Through a flimsy layer of gauze, the dead woman's empty eye sockets stared back at Evelyn from a withered face. It almost seemed as if Anck-Su-Namun were smiling.


End file.
